Like Father, Like Son
by Taya
Summary: *UPDATED 7-17-03* HG/SS: Hermione joins the staff at Hogwarts, only to find that not only is Snape still here, but his son is a second year...in Gryffindor House. Rating may go up. (Chapters 1-8 up)
1. Teachers' Sons and Lemon Drops

AN: As per usual protocol, none of the characters you recognise belong to me, I'm just borrowing them for a bit of play. I promise I'll return them to the toybox with nary a scratch. Girl Scout's honour.  
  
Just an idea I had whilst in the shower - you know, one of THOSE things (that Dumbledore must have quite often), thought it might be interesting to see how it played out if I actually wrote it. And I decided to bring you along for the ride. I know, I know, lucky you, how considerate of me...Not really, you'll find; I expect it to be a fairly bumpy (but exciting) ride, so buckle up.  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
Teachers' Sons and Lemon Drops  
  
"Hermione, it is simply wonderful to see you!" Dumbledore exclaimed, getting up from behind his desk as his newest staff member arrived in his office.  
  
"And you too," Hermione replied politely. "I'm sorry I'm late; I got caught up in the memories."  
  
"Quite alright," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling characteristically as he smiled at her. "Are you ready for the school year?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "What kind of a question is that? I don't think I'll EVER be ready, but I'm as ready as I can be, under the circumstances."  
  
"Yes - Hermione, I wanted to ask you a favour, if I could."  
  
She laughed again, a sound that was music to Dumbledore's ears. "Of course. Merlin knows I owe you more than I can remember, let alone count."  
  
"It is good to know that I can count on you."  
  
"Oh, of COURSE, Headmaster, you always could."  
  
"Minerva, as you know, suffered an injury during the defeat of Voldemort, and though she will still continue to be the Transfiguration Professor, she feels that she can no longer do an adequate job as the Head of Gryffindor House. As the only other Gryffindor alumni at Hogwarts who is eligible for the position, the staff would be very honoured if you would consider taking over that position."  
  
Hermione was obviously taken aback; whatever she had been expecting, it was nowhere near this.  
  
"O - Of course, I would be honoured to ACCEPT that position," Hermione stammered. "If you think I can do it, sir."  
  
"I have complete confidence in you, Hermione." Dumbledore added, "And please, call me Albus - you are no longer a student here."  
  
Hermione blushed. "Yes, of course, Albus."  
  
"Very good, it's all settled then. The Feast is set to begin in an hour or so, with the students arriving just before, as always. You may want to go prepare."  
  
"Yes, thank you." Hermione got up to leave, but Dumbledore's voice stopped her one more time. She turned around, expecting nothing more than something regarding a staff meeting, or something of the like.  
  
"There's one more thing before you go, Hermione, I suppose I should tell you - Severus' son is a second year."  
  
She glanced at Dumbledore sharply. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Yes, Hermione, Severus the Second - Sev, he prefers to be called - is a second year here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, quite calmly.  
  
Hermione seemed furious, breathing heavily for a moment, then calming down as well. Perhaps this would not be so bad. "What house?"  
  
"Gryffindor."  
  
Eyes widening for but a second, Hermione fell back in a dead faint.  
  
Looking to Fawkes with a mild expression, Dumbledore asked, "Do you suppose I should have offered her a lemon drop first?" 


	2. Old Friends, New Colleagues

AN: Thanks to all who reviewed; and since we all hate disclaimers SO VERY MUCH, I've put one in the first chapter and if you REALLY get pleasure out of reading me subjecting myself to Girl Scout's Honour (YES, I'm a Girl Scout, NO, I know you can't believe it, and NO, don't try to argue with me - It'll look good on my college transcripts), go back there and read it.  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
Old Friends, New Colleagues  
  
Severus Snape is about to be angry, Hermione reflected calmly. Very, VERY angry.  
  
She was helping herd the first years - Hogwarts had just received its largest class ever - to the castle, trying to catch up with Professor McGonagall on the goings-on of the school as she did. Unfortunately, she was not having much success, and as McGonagall looked at Hermione rather helplessly, the latter got a mischievous gleam in her eye.  
  
"Am I going to like this?" McGonagall asked, slightly suspicious. She and Hermione had become very good friends in the past twelve years since Hermione's graduation, and the older woman knew not to mess with her young protégée when she got that look.  
  
"Oh, yes."  
  
"That usually means I'm not," grumbled McGonagall, and Hermione laughed, a rich, happy sound that evoked thoughts of tinkling bells.  
  
"Don't WORRY, Minerva, trust me. After all, I AM the new Head of Gryffindor."  
  
"Would you deduct house points if I said that that made me feel even worse?" McGonagall retorted good-naturedly.  
  
"But of course."  
  
"From your own House?" Even McGonagall was taken aback.  
  
Hermione grinned wickedly. "Oh, don't get your fur all up in a bunch," she sighed. "The best thing about being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is that you get all the students, and you can play favourites. And you know, I rather like the idea of being able to both take AND give points..."  
  
As McGonagall rolled her eyes, Hermione grinned again, plunging her hand into her robes to find her wand.  
  
"Sonorus!" she exclaimed, and her voice magically amplified. "All first years, please follow either Professor McGonagall or me. This way, please." Hermione waved her wand in the air, conjuring up the words, "First Years This Way" in waving, silvery ribbon.  
  
This easily claimed the attention of all the first years (and some older students otherwise), who clambered to follow the two professors to the lake.  
  
Once they were across, McGonagall and Hermione led them into the very same chamber in which Hermione had once worried about which spell she would need to know to be Sorted. "You can handle them from here, I trust?"  
  
"Of course," Minerva replied. "Thank you, Hermione. I will see you in a bit."  
  
"See you." Smiling brightly at the terrified new students as she left, she whispered, "Can't wait to see some of you in Gryffindor."  
  
One student, in particular, snorted as Hermione left, mumbling to some others around him something about "mudbloods" and "dirty Muggles". She whipped around, pointing her wand menacingly at the child - it wasn't hard to tell which one; white blond hair, pale skin, icy blue eyes that just swam in arrogance, they all stood out to her as a bright pink cauldron amongst forty other black ones would.  
  
"Mister Malfoy," she said coldly, "I will thank you very much not to insult my heritage whilst I am still in the room, or you may find yourself on the receiving end of a rather nasty hex. I AM the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you know - or didn't your dear FATHER tell you?" hissed Hermione, voice acid enough to burn through any substance.  
  
McGonagall hid a small snicker, as small laughs-turned-coughs echoed around the room.  
  
"Oh - and one more thing, as I'm already positive by that absolutely ANGELIC behaviour that you will go to Slytherin - ten points from it," Hermione snapped, sobering up all the others. Her long red robe billowed out behind her as she strode out of the room, reminding Minerva McGonagall eerily of Professor Snape.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
"Hermione," Dumbledore asked in a low voice intended only for her, "is everything alright?"  
  
Her head whipped towards him. "Of course, Prof - Albus," she replied calmly. "Everything is perfectly fine."  
  
He waved towards the hourglasses on the wall. "Then may I ask why points have just been deducted from Slytherin, before the term has begun?"  
  
"Of course. We all very well know that all Malfoys will be sorted into Slytherin, and he..." Hermione coughed softly. "The young Mr. Malfoy insulted staff by calling one particular member a 'Mudblood'. I would believe that that is sufficient reason for deducting points." She reasoned softly.  
  
Albus simply nodded. "Very well."  
  
"Thank you for your confidence, sir," Hermione replied, and slid easily into her seat. With a glance at her right, Hermione said, just as softly but infinitely more coolly, "Severus."  
  
Her old Potions Master's glare was enough to freeze even mercury, but Hermione stood her ground. Finally giving up, Snape replied, just as coolly, "Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione let out an irritated puff of air. Some things would never change about her former teacher, and of all of them, he chose to react with the only one that would cause HER annoyance. Now irked by the same man she'd determined to try to connect with this term, the new professor turned to her other side, striking up a conversation with Professor Vector, the Arithmancy professor with whom Hermione had not spoken in years.  
  
One very interested set of eyes watched this exchange, fascinated, from the Gryffindor table, wondering what his father had said to get a reaction from the newest staff member, who looked oddly familiar. 


	3. The Dream Team

Disclaimer in Chapter One.  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
The Dream Team  
  
"Malfoy, Sinistrent!"  
  
The same boy who had insulted Hermione practically ran up to the Sorting Hat, it having barely touched a hair on his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" louder than it had said anything yet.  
  
Hermione stifled a giggle; the Sorting Hat really could tell.  
  
"Nottings, Trysten!"  
  
A brunet boy nervously approached the hat, and picked it up, placing it timidly on his head. The Sorting Hat took slightly longer with this one, then announced, "Ravenclaw!"  
  
A small smile graced Hermione's face; she could tell the boy was intelligent from what little she'd heard of what he'd said on their way in, and she remembered perfectly the Sorting Hat's deliberation about her, wondering if she belonged in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor.  
  
"Potter, James!"  
  
Hermione could practically HEAR Snape's scowl as James, the spitting image of his father, but with his grandfather's eyes. It was honestly amazing how traits could re-assert themselves, skipping one generation, Hermione reflected, as James had barely jammed the hat over his head (obviously, Harry had gotten to James before Fred and George had had a chance to preach about the 'horrors of Sorting') when the Sorting Hat made its decision.  
  
Nearly as quickly as it Sorted Sinistrent, Hermione smirked as James ran to his "rightful" table, the same one that his parents and grandparents had joined so many years ago.  
  
"Potter, Lily!"  
  
She has her father's eyes, Hermione found herself thinking, as she heard a small groan from her right side. She nearly laughed again, but restrained herself just in time to see the Sorting Hat take just as long with Lily, Harry's oldest daughter, as it had with Harry himself. Lily seemed to be the perfect blend of Lily Evans and Ginny Weasley - the spatter of freckles across her nose gave away the Weasley heritage, however, the bright red of Ginny's hair, the trademark of the Weasley line, had been toned down into Lily's somewhat tamer auburn locks, but were still redder than ordinary.  
  
Finally, Lily, too, was placed in Gryffindor, and welcomed to the table by tumultuous cheer. Her exuberant personality - obviously from Ginny, as Harry had become rather more serious since graduation - showed as she laughed and grinned, already having made new friends. Hermione smiled, pleased that both her Potter godchildren had made it into Gryffindor; all was as it was meant to be. The "Dream Team" was back together again, in a way.  
  
"Silver, Calliope!"  
  
The graceful girl nearly glided up to the stool, serenely placing the worn Sorting Hat over her head. She seemed to know that she was the last to be sorted.  
  
It also seemed that for her calm disposition, the Sorting Hat immediately placed her in Hufflepuff, and the entire Great Hall exploded into applause for the last new first year, who headed over to join her older brother - a prefect - at the Hufflepuff table.  
  
As McGonagall went to return the Hat to its rightful place, Dumbledore stood up. "This year, I would like to get the announcements out of the way BEFORE the Feast. The Forbidden Forest is, as always, and as implied by its rather appropriate name, off-limits to all without proper chaperonage. Quidditch tryouts will be the second week of term, also as usual - please see Madam Hooch to sign up." Dumbledore indicated the hawk-like woman at the left side of the High Table and paused to wait for the small flurry of excited talk to die down, as he always did.  
  
"In addition to the usual," added the Headmaster, "we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor joining us from the Aurory, Professor Hermione Granger whom many of you may recognise from her rather influential hand in the defeat of Voldemort. She will also be replacing Professor McGonagall this year as the Head of Gryffindor House. And, as usual, there will be no derogatory remarks pertaining to her heritage, nor anyone else's."  
  
Hermione, who had stood up to smile and wave, momentarily froze at that, but hid her oncoming blush well, and sat down again.  
  
"Let the feast begin!"  
  
Unconvinced that that simple statement would stop the insulting remarks obviously directed at her out of pure malice and animosity, Hermione leaned towards Snape. "Severus?"  
  
"What?" he snapped, turning only briefly to respond.  
  
"Could I trouble you to keep an eye on Mr. Malfoy? It would seem that he rather enjoys insulting the people who will be watching him most closely, and who will be giving him his grades," Hermione replied, voice even and steady; she couldn't expect much from Snape, especially after what had transpired during their last meeting.  
  
He snorted, still not looking up, but Hermione smiled. "Thank you," she said softly, and returned to her previous conversation with Professor Vector.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
"Miss Granger," Snape stopped Hermione from leaving as the feast ended.  
  
"PROFESSOR Snape," Hermione said, emphasizing the title as if it were an insult as she paused by his chair, "I am your colleague now. If you do not consider me your peer, then so be it, but at least do me the courtesy of addressing me by my proper title. I am a professor at this school, and I have a degree in the field of Alchemy. If you cannot call me 'professor', please address me by the title of 'doctor'. I am no longer your student. And if you will excuse me, I would like to get myself acquainted with my House."  
  
Slightly surprised by Hermione's now acid demeanor towards him, all Snape could do was watch her as she exited the Great Hall, headed after her students.  
  
With an exasperated roll of his eyes, skillfully hidden, he realised that he would now need to go to the trouble of sending a note by Floo to her room.  
  
Where WAS her room, anyway? 


	4. Speaking Terms

AN: You know the drill. Disclaimer in Chapter One. I hope I don't have to say it anymore. Many thanks to all who reviewed.  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
Speaking Terms  
  
"Laurel essence," Hermione muttered at the tapestry before her, and it lifted itself away from the wall for her. Unwarding the door, Hermione entered her private chambers, only to find a deep green envelope waiting for her on her desk.  
  
She winced, narrowing her eyes at it and wishing for once that she could actually incinerate the thing with sheer willpower. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she grabbed it, inspecting the envelope, which was crafted of fine paper - if one could call it paper.  
  
"Snape," she mumbled as she saw the neat, precise but angular handwriting on the front addressing it to her, and the Slytherin seal stamped in the silver wax on the back. Hermione slit it open with a fingernail and pulled out a small note, on Snape's personal stationery.  
  
Absently, Hermione noted that he must have ordered some recently; she'd never before seen stationery like this from him.  
  
HG, Hermione read, sending a pang of nostalgia through her,  
  
There are words that need to be said between us, regarding our last meeting. Please do me the honour of your presence in my office at four o'clock pm tomorrow afternoon, following your classes.  
  
SS.  
  
Hermione sighed and grabbed a quill off the stand on her desk, along with a sheet of her own personal stationery.  
  
I will be there.  
  
H.  
  
Enclosing it in her own envelope, scrawling SS across the front rather than his actual name, Hermione flipped it over and stamped her own seal upon it - her initials, HEG, in the Gryffindor colours. Unfortunately, she had not yet had the time to acquire the Gryffindor stamp and had to use her personal one.  
  
With a silent prayer that the use of her personal seal would not be misinterpreted, Hermione sent it off by Floo.  
  
"Professor Snape's chambers!" she said, and the envelope disappeared in a puff of flame.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Snape poured himself another glass of Ogden's Firewhiskey, downing it all in one gulp.  
  
Why did that woman have to be so damn - well, so damn HER?  
  
He sighed and poured himself another glass, but paused before swallowing this one down as well. He didn't ordinarily drink, he realised. It was the stress of seeing HER again, he was sure of it.  
  
What if she didn't feel it anymore? What if the spell had been broken? What if...  
  
Snape drowned the questions in the glass of whiskey, and stopped himself before he could pour another glass.  
  
He had to admit, he'd been almost pleasantly surprised - as he was sure had been Hermione's intention, that was how her mind worked - when he'd found that she had gotten herself that degree in Alchemy.  
  
She always was your best student, said that annoying little voice inside of him. You knew she'd do great things. You just wanted to do them with her. Immediately, Snape decided to screw the hangover he was sure he'd have in the morning, and he silenced the voice within with another three glasses of whiskey in a row.  
  
Still, she'd left the Aurory - he had known that almost the moment it happened, that was how it had been between the two of them back then. She was still on "reserve", she insisted, she just didn't want to do it full time. He was glad; Hermione should have used her mind rather than putting all of her spells to use. Even if she had chosen Arithmancy over Alchemy, he would have been glad.  
  
But not as glad.  
  
Damn, that voice was back again. Snape frowned and poured himself another glass of Firewhiskey.  
  
Interrupting him, a deep burgundy envelope appeared in a flash through the fireplace.  
  
She must have gotten the note, he thought, snatching the envelope out of midair. Quickly slitting the seal, Snape just barely noticed that it was Hermione's personal seal. She must not have had time to pick up the Gryffindor stamp yet, he reasoned, and pulled out the disappointingly short note.  
  
But thank the gods, she would speak to him.  
  
He left the untouched glass of fresh Firewhiskey and retreated into his bedchambers. He even found a bottle of that potion for hangovers that he kept.  
  
And for once, his dreams wouldn't be haunted by Voldemort.  
  
AN: I know, I know, I made our dear Sevvie quite OOC, but you'll see why, quite soon. 


	5. Of First Meetings and Long Talks

AN: Disclaimer in Chapter One, as always. I wonder when I'll be able to stop saying this? (One day I'll just forget and no one will be the wiser.)  
  
Thanks ever so much to trickofthetrade, BIW, Weep You No More Sad Fountains and Teala Snape.  
  
As to the rest of you, thanks also to you, but I wanted to address your reviews:  
  
Claribel: Aren't you ALL? LOL.  
  
MP: Well, if someone would be kind enough to put me on their Author Alert and then let me know whether or not that works... I'm not a paying member, I don't have Support Services... So I don't know if that works for me or not. But for the rest of you and if that doesn't work, please feel free to leave your e-mail addy and I'll start an e-mail list to let you guys know of updates. I'm so excited, people actually want to read my work! ^___^  
  
Li-chan: That IS one of the mysteries, isn't it? All will become clear later...  
  
Jenbachand: Hey, hey, I couldn't tell you that - because then I'd just be giving it away, wouldn't I? Don't worry, more of the actual plot is coming in later.  
  
Tracey Claybon: That was my initial thought and partially why I wanted to put him there. Another reason is that - shh, don't tell anyone - it's a hint for the rest of the story. I'm attempting to mimic the great JKR and drop tiny hints in there... Trying, and I hope to Merlin it works.  
  
Kayla: That'll be revealed soon, don't worry.  
  
Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and thanks to everyone who WILL review, in advance...Now onto the story! The calm before the storm! BUAHAHAHA! *coughs* Ahem, sorry about that. Now, without further ado...  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
Of First Meetings and Long Talks  
  
Hermione tumbled out of bed promptly at seven a.m., already prepping herself for this long day ahead of her; the first day of term was nearly guaranteed not to be easy for her. Hurriedly grabbing a set of robes and clothes (not caring which, really), she hurried into the bathroom to take a shower and get brushed up for breakfast, which was at eight.  
  
She indulged herself in a half an hour's shower, and, sleep-tousled hair now smoothed out (it was no longer as bushy as it had been in her schooldays), she took five minutes brushing up and then allowed herself ten minutes to mentally review today's schedule as well as one or two of her lesson plans.  
  
Feeling much more reassured, Hermione smoothed out the front of her robes, checked her hair once more and was out the door, actually allowing herself fifteen minutes to get down to the Great Hall, shifting staircases and all. She remembered all too well the many times she, Harry and Ron had been forced to scamper down staircases that realigned themselves as they ran, and still arrive at breakfast late enough to earn a scowl from Snape.  
  
Waiting patiently for a staircase to realign, Hermione had to giggle at the memories, earning herself an odd look from a second year. She simply smiled back, wondering when she'd have him and what house he was in.  
  
After the staircases fell into place with a distinct click, Hermione descended and entered the Great Hall, taking her seat at the High Table to the left of Snape's empty seat. She wondered about him only briefly before Dumbledore drew her attention away with a polite inquiry as to how she had slept and how she liked her rooms.  
  
Hermione didn't notice when Snape arrived; she also didn't notice the three sets of eyes on her from three different House tables.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
The second year class passed without much incident; Hermione had introduced herself, answered a few questions about herself, which included, most notably, enquiries regarding her work in the Aurory, especially with Harry and Ron, and whether or not she was Muggle-born. She had answered the latter rather sharply, stating that yes, she was, and that she was proud of the fact and would not be at all tolerant of derogatory remarks regarding hers or anyone else's heritage.  
  
Then she had continued onto her first task, which would be much the same thing that she would do with her classes for a bit; she asked them all about what they had learned and what they knew of DADA. The period was over much sooner than Hermione had anticipated, and she was almost sad it was over. For homework, she assigned them a five-inch parchment on a DADA subject, such as the Unforgivables, or a boggart, or something of the sort that was of their choosing.  
  
Hermione was finishing up some general notes on her second year Gryffindor/Hufflepuff class when Severus Snape, the Second, approached her.  
  
"Professor Granger?" asked a timid voice, and Hermione's head snapped up from her quill and parchment. The resemblance of Sev's voice to his father's, though his was not yet matured from age yet, first plastered a neutral and carefully controlled expression to Hermione's face.  
  
Upon second glance, she decided that the boy before her was most definitely not his father, though whilst absorbed in her scribbles, she had not been able to tell, and her face softened.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Snape?" she asked, surprised and a bit amused to hear that name issuing from her lips, in that form. It would take a bit of getting used to, she was sure.  
  
"Do you...Do you know my father well?" he asked in response, voice just as timid as it had been moments ago.  
  
Hermione smiled. "I doubt if anyone knows him very well, Sev," she said, recognising the type of conversation this was going to be and deciding to drop the formalities.  
  
"Still, I was watching you, and even though you didn't talk a lot, he did talk to you." Sev's lips twitched in an expression that was so reminiscent of his father that Hermione suppressed a shudder, hoping Sev didn't notice; he didn't show any signs, and Hermione took a breath. "And I was wondering, if I could talk to you about him?"  
  
The professor looked surprised. "Why don't you talk to him?"  
  
"Because..." Sev began, then trailed off, and began again. "Because I'm afraid he doesn't like me very much."  
  
Surprised even more this time, Hermione stared at him, studying the boy's face intently. Whilst he did look remarkably like his father, the older Severus' face was more angular, his eyes more black, whereas Sev's face was a bit softer (but still with the same features Hermione recognised from his father) and his eyes closer to brown than black.  
  
Upon further scrutiny, Hermione realised that Sev's dark brown eyes hid a hint of tears, and she pushed back hurriedly from her desk, rounding it to encircle the boy with her arms. She felt an empathy for him, and Hermione stroked Sev's head once or twice, brushing his hair out of his eyes for him and then squatting so that she was on eye level with him.  
  
"Of course he likes you, Sev. Your father has just never been one for..." Hermione smiled a bit at her word choice - "...displays of emotion."  
  
It was the understatement of the year, or perhaps of the decade. Upon accepting her as an advisee for her seventh year Potions project, he had told her in no uncertain terms, in fact, she still remembered the exact words, that "the moment you fail to meet a deadline, or show any signs of being upset, or, God forbid, burst into tears, you will leave and not return. I will not tolerate any unseemly displays of emotion."  
  
Brief moment of nostalgia pushed aside for later reflection, Hermione glanced at the clock on her desk. "Sev, you have to get going to your next class. But if you'd like to talk, we can do it over lunch, I have a free period afterwards when I can get things done anyway." She had planned upon going to the library just to browse, but that could wait. It seemed that her role as Head of House was just beginning.  
  
"Could we?" Sev asked, hopefulness shining in his eyes.  
  
Hermione smiled warmly. "Of course. Here," she said, scribbling a pass for him on a spare scrap of parchment. "In case you're late," explained Hermione. "I'll see you at lunch. Get going." Standing back up, Hermione gave the boy a little push towards the door.  
  
"Thank you, Professor," Sev said gratefully before hurrying out.  
  
With a sigh, suddenly fatigued, Hermione dropped into her seat again, passing a hand over her face.  
  
Severus Snape, she thought severely, steely resolution setting in her eyes, refusing to be budged, as she returned to her work, We are going to have a looong talk. 


	6. The Calling

AN: Usual disclaimers apply, if you want to read it, go to Chapter One.  
  
If you guys would like to be notified of updates on this or any of my other fics (you'll get updates on both HP fics), please e-mail me at ange_dansant@yahoo.com, NOT the e-mail address listed on my profile. I'll be away for a while and would rather that Inbox not get totally cluttered up.  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
The Calling  
  
"Professor?"  
  
Hermione looked up from the positively ancient tome she was reading. "Sev!" she greeted the boy. "Come in." She was seated behind her desk in her office, which was a bit down the hall from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but would no doubt be first on Sev's path. "Would you like some tea?" she asked casually, already rising, closing the book as she did and easily placing some papers on top of it.  
  
"Yes, please." Sev entered and stood uncomfortably by one of the plush armchairs Hermione insisted on having in her office. The only other office that had armchairs such as these was Dumbledore's; in a sense, Hermione and Dumbledore had similar tastes and requirements, though Hermione had never been very fond of lemon drops.  
  
"Hibiscus, am I right?" Hermione smiled at him, trying to reassure him that he was doing nothing wrong simply by talking to her. "You can sit down, if you'd like - on one of the armchairs or just through that door, my sitting room."  
  
Severus the Second edged to the door that Hermione had indicated, preferring to keep this conversation private, and as unrelated to school as he could get it. Then, her first question registered on his mind. "Hib - Hibiscus, yes, how did you know?"  
  
Hermione smiled mischievously. "I have my ways. Besides, it helps when it's also my favourite and, I think, your father's." She clapped her hands once. "Dobby?"  
  
The house-elf appeared at her elbow instantly. "Yes, Mistress Granger?"  
  
"Could you fetch us our lunch, please? Sev, what would you like?"  
  
"Dobby is knowing what Master Snape's son likes, Mistress Granger - Dobby will be back." With a sharp pop, Dobby disappeared.  
  
Pouring herself and Sev each a cup, Hermione set the teacups on her silver serving tray and brought them into her sitting room, setting it down on the coffee table. "How do you take it?"  
  
"Black, please." He watched as his teacher handed him a cup, then took her own, sitting next to him on the couch. She curled her legs up underneath him and regarded him somberly.  
  
"So, Sev, what did you want to talk about?"  
  
He looked suddenly embarrassed. "I don't know," he said. "Just...stuff, I guess." Sev gazed almost fearfully at Hermione, awaiting the ridicule that ordinarily accompanied hearing this response.  
  
"Stuff," Hermione repeated slowly, surprising him when she took him seriously. "Well, what kind of stuff?"  
  
"I don't know, you, or me, or...maybe my father."  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Severus Snape, the First, frowned as he seated himself at the High Table. He usually tried to avoid lunch, but Dumbledore usually insisted that he be there, so he was usually there. Once in a while, the Headmaster would grant him a reprieve - it seemed, today, Dumbledore had granted HERMIONE a reprieve.  
  
"Don't look so sour, Severus," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye. "It's amazing what one can learn just from listening, especially during lunch."  
  
The Potions Master scowled at the older man, wondering what he meant. Dumbledore tended to have a purpose to his words, even if the purpose was apparent to nobody else but him. Nevertheless, too irritated with this year's group of "dunderheads" to have the patience to try to comprehend the Headmaster's words, Snape just stared into his food and began to eat.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Meanwhile, Snape's son happened to be having a very lovely lunch, shared with his soon-to-be favourite teacher.  
  
They were laughing over jokes, little things Hermione remembered from her years as a student, namely experiences with Sev's father.  
  
"I'll never forget the look on poor Neville's face," Hermione giggled. "The swelling potion - the two of us had managed to make it right - simply EXPLODED all over the room. It hit your father, and BAM," she grinned. "He swelled up like a marshmallow! Neville looked something like...Hm..." pausing to think, Hermione finally got it and schooled her features into a positively hilarious face of desperate fear.  
  
Sev had the misfortune of just having taken another sip of tea, and he spit it out, laughing. "No!"  
  
Hermione nodded. "Oh, I know I oughtn't be making fun, but...You should have seen your father! He was FURIOUS, but no one could take him seriously, considering he had swelled up to four times his usual size and was bright red all over. In fact..." Hermione got up and dug through her bookshelves, then pulled out a hardcover, leather-bound book, flipping it open. "Here. Look at this."  
  
Sev had the good sense of not taking a sip of tea before looking at the photo. Its magical properties only enhanced the hilarity.  
  
Snape, in his usual black, billowing robes, was four times his ordinary size (which was formidable in itself) and red as a cherry. He scowled at the two of them as the class alternated between laughing and crying, and a bushy-haired Hermione tried to comfort a hysterically sobbing Neville Longbottom, looking plump as ever.  
  
Sev laughed uncontrollably, putting down his tea, till tears of mirth rolled down his cheeks. "I'm never," he gasped, "going to look - at my father - again - without laughing."  
  
Hermione was lost in peals of laughter as well. "I know! Nobody looked at him for a good three weeks afterwards without having to hide a laugh! I don't think Slytherin House ever lost that many points from their own Head in an entire decade! And," she gasped for breath as well, "the worst part of it was that somehow Neville and I had doubled - nearly tripled - the strength of the potion, so your father deducted points!"  
  
Eventually, the two calmed down and resumed their idle chat.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Snape looked up from his food. Something was seriously amiss, other than Hermione. Once again, he glanced to his left, where the seat ordinarily occupied by the DADA teacher was conspicuously empty.  
  
His gaze swept the Great Hall for what seemed like the hundredth time, and he shot deadly glares at whoever dared look his way.  
  
Suddenly, as if he had had an epiphany, he looked at the Gryffindor table.  
  
Where the hell was his son?  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=  
  
Hermione was in the middle of explaining some Muggle concept to Sev when she was struck by a very tangible, very excruciating lash of pain.  
  
"Ooh!" she sucked in a deep breath of air, doubling over and clutching at her head. "My head!" she gasped, and Sev leaned forward, concerned.  
  
"Professor? Are you alright?"  
  
She raked her hair back from her face savagely, face contorted with pain. "Fine," she managed. "D'you see that door?" she asked, nearly stumbling over her own words, reverting to the "d'you"'s that Ron had been so prone to using. Sev nodded, concerned.  
  
"Take your wand and unward it - do you know how to unward doors?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I have an elemental ward on it, water - and then use alohomora. There is a gold phial on my nightstand. Fetch it, quickly." Holding her head in her hands, Hermione breathed, each breath she drew laboured and deep. Sev tripped over himself trying to get to the door, and nearly messed up the unwarding.  
  
Hermione mentally willed the door to unward nicely for her young student - if he messed it up, there would be nothing she could do; she was in no state right now to do any magic.  
  
As if hearing her prayers, the door unlocked itself, swinging open, and Sev practically vaulted over her bed to grab the phial, running back into Hermione's sitting room.  
  
"Thank you," she managed to say, before uncorking the phial and tipping it into her mouth, not bothering, as she usually did, to measure it out in some semblance of neatness; she knew that there wasn't much left in it anyway.  
  
"Odd...it's never been like that before," Hermione whispered, pain and concern creasing her face. "Something must have happened. Come with me, quickly." Not waiting for a response, Hermione grabbed Sev's hand and pulled him to the fireplace. "Incendio," she instructed. "Say it."  
  
He waved his wand. "Incendio!"  
  
The fire lit, and Hermione grasped a small porcelain jar of Floo powder. Taking a liberal pinch and hurling it into the fire, she said, "Staff parlour!" and pushed Sev in, following him closely.  
  
They stumbled out into a neatly decorated room, with a large oval table in the centre and comfortable looking chairs around it. There were two doors and Hermione grabbed Sev's hand again. "Come on," she said, pain not hindering her ability to give orders. "Through the door. Go sit at your table. I'll be back soon. I'm sorry our meeting had to be cut short," she practically babbled, leading him to and then ushering the boy through the door.  
  
"Are you - Do you have the..." Sev's question was lost as they emerged into the loud clamour of the Great Hall, and Hermione practically ran for Dumbledore.  
  
"Albus," she gasped out, the exertion finally catching up with her. "I - I..."  
  
She grabbed her head once more, the pain overtaking her in waves.  
  
"Harry and Ron?" Dumbledore asked gravely, understanding.  
  
"Yes," Hermione said through clenched teeth. The entire Great Hall had fallen quiet with her frantic entrance. Even Snape watched with morbid interest.  
  
"Minerva and Poppy. Come here, help me." The two women at Dumbledore's left had already scraped back their chairs and rushed to Hermione's side before Dumbledore even finished verbalizing his command.  
  
"Let's get you to Hogsmeade," Minerva murmured comfortingly, helping Hermione back into the staff parlour.  
  
"Good luck," Dumbledore said, recognising his need to stay here and help keep things with the students under control.  
  
Once Minerva, Poppy and Hermione were all in the staff parlour, they helped her Floo to The Three Broomsticks.  
  
"You can go from here?" Minerva inquired, concerned, as they burst out of The Three Broomsticks' fireplace, much to the surprise of Madam Rosmerta.  
  
"Emergency," Poppy explained breathlessly. "Sorry."  
  
"It's alright. Is she okay?" Rosmerta bustled over, now joining the small huddle of women.  
  
"I'll be fine," Hermione ground out, plunging her hand into her robes for her wand. "Please have Professor Snape cover the rest of my classes. I think he's got the afternoon off, tell him to cover..." Another spasm shook Hermione, pain flooding her face as she winced. "Tell him," she said, breaths ragged, "to cover the next lesson. NO HOMEWORK," she said firmly. "I'll be back by dinner. If not, send someone..."  
  
Her last sentence faded away along with her body, as Hermione Apparated. 


	7. Complications Rising

AN: You know where the disclaimer is. (This seems almost compulsory for me to add whenever I have an AN... *sigh*)  
  
Arafel: Thank you very much; can I ask you how you knew I had a new chapter up? (I'm trying to figure out if Author Alert works for me since I don't have Support Services.)  
  
Speaking of which, if you guys have TRIED Author Alert and it doesn't work, or you're not a member of FFN and don't want to be, e-mail me at ange_dansant@yahoo.com and I'll e-mail YOU every time I put up a new chapter.  
  
On to the rest of the responses...  
  
Lagaz: If I told you, it wouldn't be any fun! LOL. Harry and Ron are Hermione's best friends, so naturally they have to be in here... Teehee. You'll see. Oh, and Severus has HAD a kid. *grin* If I told you any more, I'd have to kill you.  
  
Teala Snape: You manage to review every chapter, too (well, every "last" chapter that I put up, anyway) - do you have me on Author Alert, too? Does WHO have a magical link? If you're talking about Harry, Ron and Hermione...GMTA.  
  
Chillkroete: You're about to find out. Sev IS cute, isn't he? I have to say that the idea of him was one of my better ones...Besides, I always wanted Sevvie (the Older) to have a Mini-Me. Don't you think that he just had to be SOOO adorable as a kid? *snerk* I know people who'd want my head on a platter for that.  
  
Anywho, onto the story!  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
Complications Rising  
  
Hermione sighed with relief as she flickered back into "existence" somewhere far, far away from Hogwarts. Two figures awaited her, sprawled on the ground.  
  
She fell forward into the grass as well, and reached out to touch them. Her agony lifted as she made physical contact with the two, and they sat up with effort.  
  
"Well," she said by way of greeting. "I haven't seen you two in a while. Harry, Ron."  
  
Harry shot a glance at Ron as the redhead pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing as he did. Hermione made a mental note to ask him about it, then check him out; naturally, Ron would say he was fine. "I TOLD you she'd come," he said, a tad petulantly.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, what if she hadn't?"  
  
"She wouldn't not," argued Harry as he too grimaced at the effort of sitting up.  
  
"But if she hadn't..."  
  
"STOP!" Hermione stopped their bickering where it was. "Is there a REASON that you pulled me out of my lunch meeting, made the entire school think I was dying of pain, and nearly gave Sev a heart attack?"  
  
"Sev?" Ron repeated blankly.  
  
"Is that..." Harry asked hesitantly. "...short for SEVERUS?"  
  
"As in, Severus SNAPE?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"THE GREASY GIT??!! You call him SEV?" Ron demanded, infuriated. "What the bloody hell's wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothing!" Hermione insisted. "I'm not talking about PROFESSOR Snape."  
  
"There's only one Severus Snape, Hermione." Said Harry, as if she needed reminding.  
  
She didn't. "There's TWO, for your information. I was having lunch with Severus Snape - the younger. His son."  
  
"Hermione, you DIDN'T!" Harry yelled, purpose for pulling her away from Hogwarts forgotten. "You know that that could jeopardise EVERYTHING!" he told her, original thoughts dropped and thoughts for her well-being now foremost in his mind. Harry Potter was nothing if not a caring friend.  
  
"Well," Hermione said, crossing her arms, "it's not as if things aren't already JEOPARDISED," she pointed out, almost mocking his word choice. "The boy isn't even in SLYTHERIN, Harry. He's in GRYFFINDOR. What the hell d'you think that says about his MOTHER?"  
  
Ron closed his eyes and sighed. "It says that his mother made a mistake and he's paying for it."  
  
"He shouldn't have to, should he?" demanded Hermione, the stress of the past few days finally showing. "Anyway," she said, shaking herself out of it and back to the topic at hand as she also plopped down next to the other two. "What was so damn important that you needed to take me from Hogwarts?"  
  
"We needed to know that you were alright. That Hogwarts is..." Harry trailed off, looking slightly frightened, the most afraid Hermione had seen him in ages.  
  
"It's perfectly safe," Hermione assured him, now also frightened. "What is it?"  
  
Ron was the one to speak up. "I'm afraid that the Death Eaters are regrouping."  
  
"WHAT?" Hermione blurted out. "But Voldemort is - is..." she stopped and stared at him, terrified. "ISN'T he?"  
  
"Hermione...it's like this," Ron said after a brief hesitation. "Everyone claimed that Voldemort no longer had a soul. We meant it one way, but the other way... Well, literally...he DID still have a soul."  
  
"He was taken to Azkaban," Hermione murmured, voice barely a whisper. "The Dementor's Kiss. It took his soul. I was there, I watched it," she insisted quietly.  
  
"Hermione...what do you know of the Soul Spirit?"  
  
She looked at Harry quizzically. "It's supposedly the 'essence' of the Soul; without it, the Soul is but a shell. Theoretically, the Soul Spirit can survive sans the Soul - it simply has to find a new 'shell' to support it."  
  
"Sort of," Harry said slowly, "like how Voldemort shared Quirrell's body in First Year?"  
  
"Sort of," Hermione admitted. "But really, the new Soul Spirit would struggle with the old one, and eventually whichever came out on top - something to do with the strength of the Mind and strength of the Soul in the original person versus the strength of Mind and Soul in the new person - would be the new 'inhabitant' of the Soul Shell. Also the new inhabitant of the body, provided the Spirit could also overthrow the Mind. If not, well...it IS all theoretical, but if not, the person would end up with the perpetually split Mind and Soul, an 'ailment' you hear of a lot when someone is..." Hermione snickered. "...SUPPOSEDLY in love.  
  
"This is," she added hastily, "you realise, completely and totally theoretical."  
  
"Well..." Ron looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Not with Voldemort. Not anymore, anyway."  
  
"BLOODY HELL!" Hermione screamed into the empty air, not caring that she twisted her ankle as she scrambled to her feet in anger. "Can't this guy just stay - the fuck - DEAD, for once?"  
  
"He's got a real will to live, I'll give him that," Ron muttered with a smirk.  
  
She whirled on him. "No shit, Sherlock!" she exclaimed. "I want to live a NORMAL life, goddamnit! Wasn't this why I LEFT the Aurory??"  
  
"Hermione...that's one of the reasons we needed to talk to you." Said Ron, unaffected by her screaming at him; he understood. In fact, he would have guessed right then that she knew the truth; it wouldn't have surprised him OR Harry at that point. After all, this was Hermione Granger.  
  
"You want me to rejoin, as an Auror in deep cover at Hogwarts," Hermione said dully, her anger spent, the outburst having flushed her face as sorrow flooded her eyes at her misplaced rage at Ron.  
  
She'd gotten it right in one, hitting the nail, hard and precise, right on the centre of its head.  
  
"'Mione, if you don't want to or don't think you can do it," Ron began gently, Harry nodding fervently as he spoke.  
  
"No," Hermione said firmly. "I'll do it. I have to help protect the place that's been my home for most of my life."  
  
At the word "home", a pang of guilt hit Harry and Ron, and Harry beat Ron this time to opening his mouth. "'Mione," he started, voice quiet and tone apologetic.  
  
"Oh, no," Hermione said forbiddingly. "Don't you DARE."  
  
"I'm - WE'RE - so sorry, 'Mione. Your parents..."  
  
Hermione didn't hear the last of Harry's words as she Apparated to her childhood home, reappearing (having miraculously managed not to splinch herself - no small feat and most DEFINITELY a surprise, especially given HER state of mind) before the small but comfortable home she'd grown up in.  
  
It was engulfed in flame, with people looking suspiciously unlike Ministry Officials surrounding it. What was worse, however...was the Dark Mark conjured above it.  
  
Hermione broke into a dead run, Hogwarts teaching robes flapping behind her. 


	8. Light in Darkness

AN: I've edited the second-to-last paragraph of the last chapter to make it go with this one. You know where the disclaimer is. I'm sorry for this chapter being so short, I've been busy lately and wanted to get something out before I left.  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
Light in Darkness  
  
"Miss! Miss, you can't go in there!"  
  
Hermione barely turned around, shooting the hapless man a glare that said, rather defiantly, "watch me". Instead, however, of saying that, she shouted over her shoulder, "Ministry of Magic - Hermione Granger, Auror." She pulled her wand from her robes, shedding them as she did to reveal the slacks and blouse she wore underneath.  
  
Harry and Ron Apparated right behind her, and sprinted after her. "Hermione, NO!" Harry shouted after her. "Ron, you take care of the Muggles," he ground out, hurrying after his friend.  
  
"Stupefy!" Ron shouted at the Muggle authorities, casting a group Stupefy over them. "Bloody hell," he muttered at the sheer number of people gathering. "Dad's going to be furious." Dry commentary aside, he began throwing up wards, glamours, whatever he could manage to get people away.  
  
"Hermione, STOP!" Harry yelled, throwing himself at Hermione and tackling her before she got any closer to her house. "There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry."  
  
Her body was wracked with sobs. "It's my fault," she mumbled through her tears, "if I weren't a witch, then this wouldn't have happened."  
  
"Hermione, please. It's not your fault. Come on, we have to get rid of the Dark Mark."  
  
Dully, Hermione stared at him, then turned to the house, squeezing her eyes shut as she pointed her wand upwards, at the Mark.  
  
"On three, then. One...two...three."  
  
"Amolior!" They shouted together, and the Dark Mark began to fade.  
  
"Again...one, two...three!"  
  
This time, Ron joined them in shouting the "forcible removal" spell.  
  
"Amolior!"  
  
"Once more," Hermione murmured, and didn't count this time.  
  
"AMOLIOR!"  
  
The Mark disappeared, and Hermione's tears began to flow again as the whole thing hit her, full force. Her parents were gone.  
  
She allowed Harry to lead her away from the house, and crumpled to the ground again. Ron cast "Ennervate" on some of the firefighters, who began to put out the fire, then headed over to help Harry comfort Hermione.  
  
"'Mione...I'm so sorry. Your parents were great people." Said Ron, voice full of pain for his best friend.  
  
Suddenly, an owl swooped down to perch on Hermione's shoulder, hooting quietly.  
  
"What's this?" Harry untied the note from the owl's leg, then skimmed it over, nodding for the owl to go.  
  
"Arthur's dispatched people to take care of this...situation," Harry said, glancing around at the stupefied Muggles. "It seems that he would like us to go to a Dark Revel."  
  
"No, Harry, we can't..." Ron said, looking worriedly at Hermione.  
  
"We have to. It looks like something's up. And I don't think it's going to make anything worse if we go kick some ass, especially not for Hermione."  
  
"Harry, look at her!" Ron exclaimed. "She's unstable. Her emotions are clouding her judgment. It's not going to help her."  
  
"Would you two stop talking about me like I'm not HERE?" Hermione demanded, interrupting Ron and Harry's hushed conversation. "I'm going," she declared. "Where is it?"  
  
"Hermione..." Ron pleaded with her.  
  
"Ron, I graduated top of our class from the Auror Academy! I'll be fine," she insisted. "I can handle myself, I promise."  
  
He looked at his watch, then sighed reluctantly. "Fine. At least let me give you some Pepper-Up Potion first. We've got an hour or two. I want you to come back to our flat, take a nap and then some Pepper-Up Potion. THEN we'll go."  
  
She looked imploringly at Harry.  
  
"Uh uh," Harry said, shaking his head. "Not only do I agree with Ron on those points, but even if I were to be on your side, you couldn't convince him. Besides," Harry added, "it'll give us some time to catch up, and you can't have gotten all the sleep you're supposed to, what with term starting."  
  
"Oh, alright," Hermione conceded, and the trio headed back to Harry and Ron's flat. 


End file.
